Eye of the Storm
by Deana
Summary: Legolas and Aragorn head to Lake Town on an errand for King Thranduil, but they may be journeying towards their untimely deaths...
1. The Storm

**Eye of the Storm**  
A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Aragorn, or any other LOTR character.

Hey everyone! Here's chapter 1, just like I promised! Enjoy it, you're about to have a wild ride...not as wild as Legolas and Aragorn's though, lol!

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"Estel!"

Aragorn laughed as he stopped rocking the boat that he and Legolas shared. The two friends floated down the Forest River towards Lake Town; King Thranduil had asked his son to select someone to carry a message to Galen, Lake Town's Master. Aragorn was visiting, and it'd been quite a while since either of them had been to the floating city, so Legolas had eagerly volunteered

Aragorn gave the boat another rock, making Legolas glare at him. "Why does it bother you so?" the human asked. "Does the motion upset your stomach? The elven healing ability would not prevent _that_..."

Legolas shook his head as he rowed. "It does not affect me in that fashion. I simply do not wish the boat to tip."

Aragorn grinned. "You do not want to get wet."

"And _you_ do?" said Legolas.

Aragorn chuckled and stuck his hand in the water, scooping it up and shooting the elf a mischievous look.

"You are in a peculiar mood," said Legolas. "Here, you can row, then."

Aragorn caught the oars as Legolas thrust the handles at him, and they switched places.

Legolas leaned back with a relieved sigh. "Now, since you are occupied, I need not fear your antics," he said, grinning.

Aragorn smiled back as he rowed.

A few hours later, the boat drifted slowly as they ate. Legolas was looking at the sky behind himself, frowning. "I believe that it will rain."

Aragorn laughed. "Then you will get wet after all, and through no fault of mine!"

Legolas shot him a mock-glare.

It didn't take long before the sun was hidden by dark clouds. It began to grow windy and both elf and human grew concerned.

"Mayhap we should head towards land," said Aragorn.

Legolas nodded, handing his friend one of the oars. "We can try, but the rain will begin far before we reach it."

They changed their direction, but Legolas was right; thunder rumbled a few seconds later, and the wind suddenly picked up dramatically.

The water began to churn, and Legolas knew that they were in serious danger. "Faster!" he said.

The human complied, and the sky unleashed its fury. They were instantly drenched, and the wind whipped their wet hair in all directions. The two friends quickly grabbed their weapons and strapped them to their body, not wanting to risk losing them.

The storm was very severe; the lightening left the clouds, the resulting thunder loud enough to hurt their ears. Several times the boat almost tipped; usually from Legolas' side, as he was lighter than Aragorn.

The elf and human lost control of the boat when Legolas' oar suddenly fell from his hands as the boat almost capsized again, nearly throwing him into the water.

The boat turned, back into the original direction that they'd been heading in. The churning waves filled the boat with water, but it was unable to sink as the storm propelled them down the river at an alarming rate.

The two friends held on for dear life, one hand on either side of the boat, trying to prevent it from capsizing. They were losing the battle, and a sudden strange sound made Aragorn look over his shoulder. What he saw shocked him. "Legolas!" he shouted.

Legolas turned, shocked even more than the human, at a sight that he'd never beheld before despite his long life.

A funnel of water, stretching up to the sky, was directly behind them.

Aragorn let go of the boat and moved up next to Legolas, grabbing his arm in an attempt to avoid being separated when the waterspout hit them.

A minute later, they were flying through the air.

The elf and human lost their grip on each other and plunged into the water, as debris from the wooden boat landed around them.

Aragorn nearly didn't know which way was up. He fought to make his way back to the surface, ignoring the pain that flared through his body. Breaking the surface, he choked on water that he'd inhaled, frantically searching for his friend. "Legolas!" he shouted, coughing.

There was no sign of the elf.

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When the waterspout hit the boat, an incredible pain shot through Legolas' body, but he had no time for his mind to register the cause before he was suddenly airborne. When he hit the water, he nearly lost consciousness, but as soon as the liquid entered his mouth, he fought to swim, even as the horrible pain increased.

Just when he thought that he was about to die, a hand grabbed his and he was yanked upwards. The pain that it caused his body made him gasp involuntarily, making him inhale more water.

Legolas suddenly felt his head pulled above the surface and he gasped-in some air, choking harshly on the water in his lungs. It was then that he realized where the pain was coming from; his right side. Coughing caused the horrible pain to double, and he nearly lost consciousness again.

Aragorn was alarmed when the elf made no effort to grab onto the piece of wood that he'd found, instead slipping out of the human's grasp. He hefted the elf up and put his arms around the wood for him. "Hold on, Legolas!" he exclaimed.

Legolas managed to maintain a small thread of consciousness, and tried to obey as they were swept further down river.

Aragorn shifted closer to the elf and wrapped his arm around Legolas' on the wood, being sure that his friend wouldn't fall off. With the other hand he undid his belt. "Hold onto me!" he said.

Legolas let go with one arm and grabbed his friend, praying that his weakening grips would hold.

Aragorn looped his belt through Legolas' and then through his own sword belt, buckling it so that they would not get separated. That done, he grabbed onto the wood with one hand and his obviously-injured friend with the other.

For countless more minutes, they shot down the agitated river. The storm eventually decreased in intensity as it moved away, and Legolas' arrows—which had been knocked out of his quiver—kept floating by. Aragorn was usually the one to grab them, and he stuck them inside his sword belt, knowing that they could be easily knocked from Legolas' quiver once more.

Several times, their heads went under water, and Legolas eventually lost his grip.

Aragorn held onto the wood tightly, using his other arm to fish for his friend under the water. He grabbed Legolas' arm and pulled him up, but the elf was finally unconscious.

Aragorn was losing his own grip on the piece of wood as his arm grew tired. He watched a large piece of the boat that had remained intact, praying that it would float closer to them. When it did, Aragorn let go of the wood, reaching out to grab it. He succeeded and painfully climbed onto it, quickly reaching down to pull up the limp elf. He left the belt attached to them both and laid Legolas on his stomach, where he lay unmoving. Unable to be sure if the elf breathed, he slapped his friend's back, hoping to jolt him into coughing.

It worked after the third blow, and Legolas began to choke on inhaled water.

Relieved, Aragorn dropped in an exhausted heap beside the elf, not seeing the red stain that was slowly growing underneath his friend…

TBC


	2. OUCH!

Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the fantastic reviews! Here's a longer-then-usual chapter 2! Enjoy! Oh by the way, Legolas' injury is very serious, (of course it is, _I'm_ writing the story! LOL!) so forgive me if the medical treatment sounds gross, lol!

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Aragorn had no idea how long he lay half-conscious. He was suddenly aware of a floating sensation, and as he blinked up at the blue sky, he realized that the storm was gone. Turning his aching head, he was met with a sight that nearly made his heart stop.

Legolas was still in the same position that he'd been laid, eyes closed in unconsciousness. But the sight that made the human panic was the pool of blood spreading under the elf.

"Legolas!" he exclaimed, sitting up and reaching for his friend. Pain suddenly gripped his midsection and he gasped, nearly falling back down. He realized that a couple of his ribs were broken and took a breath, seeing how deeply he was able to inhale. It hurt—a lot—but he could tell that his lungs had not been punctured. Moving more slowly, he reached out to feel Legolas' pulse, finding it fast and weak.

Shaking with fear for his friend, Aragorn removed the bow that had thankfully remained around the elf's body, and unstrapped his quiver before carefully turning him over.

The elf was completely limp, deeply unconscious.

Aragorn cringed at Legolas' bloody clothes and found a hole on the right side of the elf's midsection. He ripped it wider and his mouth dropped open at what he found.

A piece of wood from the boat was lodged deeply in his friend's body. It was about two-by-three inches, and less than an inch of it protruded from the skin.

Aragorn quickly scanned their location, seeing they'd obviously passed Lake Town and were now floating down Long Lake. He could see land to either side, but he had no way of steering their raft towards it.

Looking back at Legolas' wound, he was relieved that the piece of wood was at least plugging the hole, somewhat, which is what had prevented the elf from already bleeding to death. Remembering laying the elf on his stomach, Aragorn wondered if he'd driven the wood further into his friend's body. He felt nauseous at the thought, and laid his head on the elf's chest to listen to his lungs. What he heard chilled his heart; there was the sound of fluid, but he was unsure if it was inhaled water or blood from a damaged lung. He prayed that it was the former; Legolas had probably lost consciousness before he'd been able to cough out all the water that he'd inhaled. The piece of wood protruded from the bottom of Legolas' ribs, and Aragorn desperately prayed that the elf's lung didn't extend that far down.

Removing his cloak, the human ripped it into strips and pressed it to the wound, careful not to push the wood in any further. Through the cloth he felt something odd and removed it, pressing lightly on the skin around the wood. To his shock, he found that the wood had gone straight through two of the elf's ribs. It testified to the power of the waterspout, and terrified Aragorn further. _What if pieces of bone are now missing inside his body? _he thought, with a shudder. _They could cause damage to his organs…internal bleeding…_He covered his face with a shaking hand. _Not to mention that his ribs will not be able to knit if there is a gap!_

Sighing heavily, he realized that nothing could be done until they reached land. The sigh caused his own ribs to flare with pain and he wrapped an arm around himself, not wanting to succumb to his own hurts with Legolas' condition so critical. His head was throbbing but his vision was untroubled, so he knew that if he had a concussion—from whatever had hit him—it was slight. His body felt bruised in several places, but his only serious injury appeared to be his broken ribs. Looking at Legolas, he wondered what other injuries the elf had obtained.

A quick examination of the elf showed no other broken bones, but the elf had a cut on the side of his head, hidden beneath his hair. It had bled only slightly, and Aragorn would've missed it if not for the lump beneath it. He opened his friend's eyelids and saw pupil dilation so slight that he wasn't even sure if it was truly there, so, like himself, Legolas probably didn't have a serious concussion.

Removing his hand from the elf's ghastly injury, Aragorn found that he'd succeeded in stopping the bleeding—for now, at least.

The human quickly picked up his ripped cloak and removed his shirt, tightly wrapping his ribs. He sat there for a minute, letting the pain die down a little before he put his shirt back on. Aragorn then grabbed the belt that still connected him to Legolas and loosened it, buckling it on the first hole to allow himself more movement. He then gingerly lowered himself into the water and tried to swim towards shore, ignoring the pain that it caused his ribs.

The raft floated behind Aragorn as he pulled it along with help from the belt. Aragorn looked behind himself frequently, ensuring that he wouldn't accidentally pull his friend off it. Legolas didn't weigh much, but he was also still wet, which obviously added more weight to his frame. His unconscious body didn't budge as Aragorn performed his tugboat duty, and they got halfway to shore before the human had to stop for a rest.

Aragorn held onto the raft with one hand, breathing heavily as he wrapped his other arm around himself. The pain made him dizzy and he couldn't stop himself from groaning.

Reopening his eyes, Aragorn found that they'd drifted away slightly, and he began to swim again, praying for the strength to quickly get to shore. When he finally made it, he stopped and grabbed the belt, untying it from himself and dragging the raft onto land.

His task completed, Aragorn sat beside his friend, legs shaking too much to remain standing.

Legolas still lay motionless, showing no sign of regaining consciousness.

Aragorn wrapped the elf's bow and quiver around his neck and knelt beside his friend, gathering him into his arms and standing slowly with a cry of pain that he couldn't hold back. His first few steps were more like stumbles, and he carried Legolas over to a tree, laying him under it. Grimacing from pain, Aragorn sat beside his friend, leaning against the tree for a minute before he was able to move again.

Unslinging his healing pack from around his neck, he found exactly what he feared; the river had carried away most of his herbs. The ones that remained were soggy and now useless, though he was relieved to see that he still had one of his small pots.

Sighing, he unslung the bow and quiver from around his body and placed them beside the elf before he painfully stood and walked into the woods, searching out new herbs. He didn't find everything that he wanted, but brought back firewood and all the medicinal herbs that he found, sorting them by their properties. He chewed a few painkillers for his screaming ribs and aching head, before going back to the river and pulling the raft further onto land, not wanting it to float off in case they needed it.

Dipping the pot into the water, Aragorn brought it back and sat it next to Legolas before building a fire. The heat felt wonderful on his wet body, and he sat the pot close to the flames before painfully maneuvering himself back to his friend. His hand shook as he reached out to check the elf's pulse, and he inwardly cursed the pain that his ribs were causing him.

Legolas' heartbeat was unchanged, and his face was extremely pale.

Aragorn sighed—carefully—and removed the elf's cloak and tunic, laying them out to dry. He suddenly realized with a jolt that he hadn't seen his needle and thread in his pack. Grabbing it, he found that the needles were there but the thread was not, and his heart dropped to his feet. He looked at Legolas, bemoaning the ill-timed waterspout. He seriously did not want to cauterize the wound, especially if there were complications with wooden splinters or bone chips, requiring him to open the injury up again.

Turning, he saw that the water was boiling, so he crushed the herbs and dropped them in as he brought the pot back to the river and added some water to cool it down. Taking it back to Legolas, he gently pulled him into his lap and slowly fed it to the elf, wincing at his ribs' protest.

Legolas made no movement, swallowing reflexively.

Laying his friend down again, Aragorn knew that he had to quickly figure out what to do about the wound; he couldn't leave the wood inside his friend's body much longer, for small pieces could break off inside the elf from the wetness of Legolas' blood.

The solution came to him suddenly; all he had to do was remove the stitching from his cloak. It was thinner than he liked, but he could remedy that by simply doubling the thread.

Immensely relieved, he grabbed his cloak and set to work, using one of Legolas' knives to carefully pull out the thread stitch by stitch. It was tedious work, made all the more annoying and uncomfortable by his painful ribs.

A short while later, the herbs that he'd taken finally took effect and the pain lessened closer to a bearable level. Once he had enough thread, he took Legolas' knife and sat closer beside the elf. "Legolas?" he said, tapping his friend's face to ensure that he wasn't close to consciousness.

Legolas remained unresponsive.

Aragorn tried to get a grip on the piece of wood, but it wasn't protruding enough. With a sigh, he carefully cut the wound wider, not bothering to wipe the blood away, knowing that he had to work quickly before Legolas lost much more blood. After the wound was wide enough, Aragorn pulled the skin apart and tried to see inside. The wood had indeed broken two ribs, but rather than break chunks through the bones, he found that the bones had both snapped and turned inward.

Relieved, the human slowly pulled the wood out of his friend's body, dropping it onto the grass. He then carefully took hold of each rib and pulled them back into their correct position. The rib that had taken the brunt of the damage was very unstable; not only broken where it had been struck, but the end that connected to the elf's breastbone had also snapped, but thankfully not all the way through. It was still hanging on, but wouldn't require much to break it the rest of the way. If that happened, Aragorn would need to remove it, and he did _not_ want that.

Once sure that the ribs were as stable as he could get them, Aragorn slid his fingers under them to see where the elf's lung was. When he found it a mere inch above the broken ribs, relief swept over him so strongly that he felt lightheaded.

Shaking it off, aware that he had to hurry, he searched for pieces of wood and bone inside the wound, picking out whatever he found.

Withdrawing his blood-covered hands, he quickly wiped them on his mangled cloak before taking his needle and thread and quickly stitching the gaping wound closed. It had bled much after removing the wood, and Legolas' skin seemed nearly as white as the clouds.

Aragorn checked his friend's pulse, finding it beating faster as his heart tried to keep blood circulating within his body. Legolas' skin felt very cold and the human knew that he was likely in shock.

Reaching over to the elf's tunic and cloak, Aragorn found that they were dry enough. He carefully put the tunic on his friend and gently wrapped him in the cloak, shifting him—very slowly—closer to the fire.

Looking up at the sky, Aragorn knew that it would be dark in a few hours, and with Legolas' ribs unable to be bound because of the stitched wound, they would probably need to stay right where they were for a few days, at least.

Aragorn's own ribs felt better thanks to the herbs and he carefully stood up and took Legolas' bow, intent on finding something for their supper. He looked at Legolas with hesitation, not wanting to leave the defenseless elf alone. He knew that southern Mirkwood was much more dangerous than the northern area, and he prayed that his hunting would be successful quickly.

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The smell of roasting meat filled the woods, and Aragorn looked around warily, should any beasts be drawn to the scent. He had Legolas' head in the crook of his arm and was feeding him more herbs. The elf was still as cold as he'd been earlier and still showed no signs of waking—until now.

As the human slowly poured the tea down the elf's throat, Legolas suddenly gave a jerk and sputtered, choking on it.

Aragorn quickly pulled the cup away. "Legolas! Be still, do not move!"

Legolas gasped, his face screwing up in a grimace in reaction to the horrible pain that gripped his body.

Aragorn held him tightly, ignoring his own pain in order to give comfort to his friend. "Drink this, mellon-nin, it will ease the pain."

It took a minute for the human's words to get through to the elf, and he obeyed, swallowing the tea in between pained gasps.

Aragorn put down the empty cup and wrapped his other arm around his friend, trying to calm the elf's shaking.

Legolas couldn't believe the level of pain that he felt. His fast breathing was making it worse, but he couldn't slow his intake of air.

"Breathe slowly, Legolas," said Aragorn, seeing the problem.

Legolas tried to obey, but it was very difficult and took a few minutes before he succeeded. "W-what…h-happened?" he asked, weakly.

"The storm," Aragorn said. "A piece of wood from the boat stabbed you. It broke two of your ribs very badly; you cannot try to move, do you understand?"

Legolas said nothing, blinking dazedly. His body still shook.

Aragorn gently laid the elf back down and grabbed what remained of his cloak. He laid it over his friend's chest and tucked the edges under him. "Legolas?" he said, concerned at the elf's blank expression.

The Prince closed his eyes.

"No, my friend," said Aragorn, squeezing his shoulder. "Do not sleep, not yet; you must eat something."

Legolas reopened his eyes but closed them again with a groan.

Aragorn sighed, leaving his hand on his friend's shoulder, in support. The wince eventually faded somewhat from the elf's features, but he kept his eyes closed.

Aragorn reached for the rabbits that he had cooked, wincing himself from his own pain. The herbs that he'd taken were beginning to wear off. "Legolas?" he said, holding a piece of meat near the elf's face.

Legolas opened his eyes slightly.

"Here," Aragorn said, lifting his friend up slightly and placing the piece of meat between his lips.

Legolas chewed sluggishly, swallowing slowly.

Aragorn was ready with another piece, and he continued to feed his friend until Legolas weakly shook his head.

"Can you not eat a little more?" Aragorn asked, not satisfied with the amount that the elf had consumed.

Legolas' face showed distress. "No," he whispered, shakily.

Seeing that the elf felt nauseated, Aragorn grabbed his pack of herbs and took out one of the leaves. "Chew this, it will help."

Legolas obeyed, eyes closed. He laid there quietly for a minute, his breathing still labored and his body still shaking. He suddenly coughed, giving a gasp of pain as it jolted his ribs.

Aragorn suddenly remembered the water that he'd heard in his friend's lungs and he lowered his head to the elf's chest, still hearing it as Legolas' elven healing ability focused itself on his other injury. "Try not to cough, Legolas," he said, fearing that it would make his precarious rib give out.

Legolas had no intention of it, as it caused him great pain. He tried to hold it back, but wasn't able to completely succeed.

Aragorn looked through the herbs that he'd found; mixing a few together that commonly helped human's lungs dry up fluid caused by sickness. He hoped that they would help the elf's lungs disperse the water.

The grimace remained in Legolas' face and he shifted slightly, as if trying to escape his pain.

"Do not move," Aragorn told him again, raising the elf's head to help him drink the herbs.

Legolas gave a whimper as the human laid him back down. He squirmed again, apparently not hearing his friend's words.

Aragorn placed a hand on Legolas' chest, holding him still as the sleeping herb in the drink took effect, making the elf finally relax.

Sighing, Aragorn picked up some painkilling herbs and ate them, leaning his still-aching head in his hand as he prepared himself for a very long night.

TBC


	3. More Ow lol

The night passed by very slowly. Aragorn had a difficult time staying awake, as his own injuries exhausted him. He heard many noises through the darkness, from various animals that walked around in the night. He kept Legolas' bow handy, but none of the creatures neared them, to his relief.

When dawn rose, Aragorn sat beside his friend, having paced around their campsite in an effort to stay awake. His head hurt and his ribs throbbed, and he had no idea how he was going to remain awake for however many days he would need to.

Legolas had remained motionless through the entire night, sleeping deeply thanks to Aragorn's herbs.

Checking the elf's pulse, Aragorn found it weak but thankfully steady. He looked at the wound next, frowning nervously at the bruise that now surrounded it. He gently felt the skin, relieved to feel no evidence of internal bleeding; the piece of wood that entered the elf's body was obviously not the only thing that had struck him.

Aragorn was glad to see that the severely damaged rib was still hanging on, and he prayed that it would continue to do so.

Yawning, he covered his friend again, leaning a hand on the elf's arm as he closed his eyes wearily. Legolas still felt cold, so Aragorn lay down beside him, hoping to lend some body heat. He kept his head propped in his hand in an effort to keep awake…but it didn't work.

Aragorn opened his eyes, suddenly realizing that they'd been closed. He sat up quickly, causing his ribs to flare with pain. He gasped and had to re-close his eyes when his vision swirled, and when he opened them again, he found that the sun was in a late-morning position.

He'd slept for five or six hours.

With another gasp—this one from dismay—he checked Legolas' pulse, and found no change in the elf. The Mirkwood Prince was still in the same position, still breathing softly, his face incredibly pale now that there was good light to see by.

Aragorn sighed with relief that his friend hadn't had any emergencies through the morning, but he couldn't believe that he'd accidentally left the elf 'alone'—at the mercy of the elements, wild beasts, and worst of all; his ailing health.

Aragorn closed his eyes and shook his head, unable to forgive himself.

Legolas suddenly moved his head towards Aragorn, his face screwing up in a grimace and a whimper leaving his throat as pain greeted his consciousness.

With horror, Aragorn realized that he should've given his friend more painkilling herbs…three or four hours ago. "Legolas! Forgive me! Here…" He grabbed the pot of water that sat near the fire, keeping warm. He dropped the herbs in and slid a shaking arm under his friend to prop him up.

Legolas' eyes were squeezed shut tightly and his breathing was harsh as he fought the pain. His face had paled even further.

Aragorn fed him the herbs, his eyes welling with tears to see his friend suffer because of his negligence. "Forgive me," he said again. "I fell asleep, Legolas, I fell asleep!"

The heartbroken tone to the human's voice got through to Legolas despite his grogginess and agonizing pain. For Aragorn to have fallen asleep at a time like this, he had to be wounded himself. "All…right?" he asked, as Aragorn put down the pot.

Aragorn wrapped both arms around his friend. "I am fine, mellon-nin, worry not."

Legolas tried desperately to hide his pain, but he couldn't stop the hitch in his breathing. "Not true," he whispered, eyes closing against his will.

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Two broken ribs, Legolas, that is all; nothing for you to fret over. Rest."

Legolas inwardly winced for his friend, sorry that the human had to care for him while he nursed his own painful injury. He apologized to his friend, but when Aragorn didn't reply, he realized that he hadn't said it aloud.

Aragorn watched the elf as Legolas drifted off, but the Mirkwood Prince suddenly opened his eyes halfway. "Where…?" he asked.

"We passed Lake Town," the human said. "I am not sure how far from there we are."

Legolas' eyes opened wider at his words, and he tried to take a look around.

"Do not move," Aragorn told him. "I could not wrap your ribs because of the wound. One of them is broken at two ends and is barely hanging on, my friend. We need to remain here until it has healed enough for you to safely move."

Legolas was shocked at the human's words. His eyes began to close again as the excruciating pain attempted to steal his senses, but he fought it, hoping that the painkilling herbs would work well enough to let him stay awake without _too_ much agony. "Danger," he said, speaking of remaining where they were.

Aragorn's eyes widened and he looked around the landscape, thinking that Legolas has sensed an imminent threat. He gently laid his friend down and grabbed the bow, painfully drawing an arrow.

"No," said Legolas, when he realized his friend's thoughts. He pulled an arm out from inside his cloak and reached for the human's arm. "Aragorn."

Aragorn looked at his friend, puzzled.

Legolas' hand shook as he touched his friend's arm. "Forgive me," he whispered, licking his lips. "Dangerous _area_."

Aragorn put the bow down, understanding now. "Yes," he said, taking his friend's cold hand and rubbing it between his own, hoping to warm it. "Do you sense anything nearby?"

Legolas thought for a minute, trying to ignore his clouded mind. "No," he answered, though he sounded slightly unsure.

Aragorn gently placed his friend's warmed hand within the cloak and repeated the procedure to the elf's other. He pulled the cloak tighter around Legolas and tucked it under his chin, being sure that nothing was exposed except for the elf's head. "Are you comfortable?"

Legolas nodded, eyes closed. He continued to shiver though, even though it wasn't cold, by any means.

Aragorn heard the sudden chatter of a squirrel and he looked up at the trees—dark and bleak as they were in this part of Mirkwood. There were no beautiful colors, no happily-singing birds…Aragorn wondered if the trees' 'voices' themselves had been lost. Looking back at Legolas, he had a feeling that the obvious evidence of the creeping Shadow was affecting him in an adverse way. After all, he was an elf: a being very close in-tune to nature.

"Estel?" he suddenly heard.

"Yes, Legolas?" he said, lowering himself to his uninjured side, holding himself up on his elbow.

"How long?" the elf asked, his mind beginning to cloud as the painkilling herbs worked on dulling some of his pain.

"It has been only one day," the human answered. He looked around again, scanning the landscape. "What kinds of dangers lurk in these woods?" he asked. He'd never stayed in this part of southern Mirkwood for any length of time because of the ever-increasing Shadow.

"Orcs…wargs…wolves…the usual," said Legolas. "Nazgul."

"What!" said Aragorn, sitting up painfully. "Nazgul?"

Legolas nodded, grimly.

Aragorn stood, nervously walking around the fire and running a hand through his hair. "We cannot remain here!" he said. "We are easy prey for the enemy…but you cannot be moved."

"Leave me?" Legolas suggested, smiling as he knew that the human would never do such a thing. "Save yourself?"

Aragorn didn't even bother answering such ridiculous words. He looked towards the river, wishing that it was flowing in the other direction. He sighed heavily, forgetting what that would do to his ribs.

Legolas opened his eyes when he heard his friend gasp, to see the human with his arms wrapped around his midsection, his body hunched over.

Aragorn tried to straighten up, not wanting Legolas to see the amount of pain that he'd been hiding from the elf. He threw his friend a wry grin, not knowing that his face had paled. "We are a sorry mess," he joked.

Legolas smiled slightly. "Aye…we are…as usual."

"What? _We_, as usual? You mean _you_, as usual," Aragorn replied, trying to raise his friend's spirits. "I was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"As usual," said Legolas, smiling.

Aragorn couldn't hold back a painful chuckle, but he quickly stopped when Legolas gave his own pained gasp. He quickly knelt beside his friend and laid a hand on the elf's arm.

Legolas squeezed his eyes shut tightly, thoroughly sick of being in pain. It seemed like he and Aragorn couldn't go _anywhere_ without disaster striking.

Aragorn looked towards their makeshift raft, an idea forming within his mind.

Legolas eventually opened his eyes and saw where the human's gaze rested. He instantly knew what Aragorn was thinking. "Estel—"

"No," said Aragorn. "You cannot walk, and your ribs would be too unstable if I carried you."

"You could not…carry me…whether my ribs were bound…or not," Legolas weakly said.

Aragorn looked at him, frowning.

"Your _own_ ribs," Legolas explained.

Aragorn sighed—carefully. "Aye."

Legolas was surprised at his friend's admission, and he realized that Aragorn was probably afraid that he'd drop him. "So you want to…tie me up…and drag me."

Aragorn glanced at him with a half-grin, unable to hide it. The elf's tone had not been a happy one. "I do not _want_ to, mellon-nin, but it seems that we have no choice."

Legolas took a breath to sigh, but he had to abruptly stop and let it out slowly instead when it increased his pain. "No rope," he said, shortening his sentences.

Aragorn shook his head. "_That_ is the problem."

Legolas glanced up at the dark trees. "Vines?"

Aragorn's eyebrows shot up. "Aye, somewhere."

"Go look," said Legolas, eyes closed. "I sense no danger."

Aragorn nodded and stood. "Do you need anything before I go?"

Legolas shook his head.

Aragorn placed the elf's knives on the ground beside him, just in case. "I'll try to hurry."

"But do not…hurt yourself…further," said Legolas.

"I won't," Aragorn told him, walking off into the woods.

It didn't take him long to find some long vines, but he realized that there was no way to reach them without climbing a tree. Steeling himself against the pain that it would cause, he reached up to grab a branch, not bothering to hide a wince since no one was there to see it. In the corner of his eye, though, he suddenly saw a tree about fifteen feet away that had vines encircling its trunk. Relieved, he walked over to it and used his sword to cut the vines at the bottom, near the ground. He was glad to see that they were an inch thick and seemed strong enough for the task.

Grabbing one from the bottom, he slowly walked around the tree, unraveling it. He did that with four vines, before cutting them as far over his head as he could reach. Lifting his sword so high caused horrible pain to his ribs, but Legolas was worth it. He was relieved beyond measure when he succeeded in getting the vines off the tree, and he started to painfully drag them back towards his friend.

TBC


	4. Zzzzzzzz

The injured elf tried to stay awake while his friend was gone, but it was very difficult. The painkilling herbs had helped, but his wound still pained him greatly. A sudden dragging sound met his ears, and he turned his head towards it.

Aragorn came out of the trees, pulling the vines behind himself. He was glad to see the elf still awake and thankfully alone, and he dropped three of the vines, dragging the fourth over to the raft.

Legolas watched as Aragorn pulled planks off it to make it smaller, before seeking the right places to tie the ends of the vine. He then pulled the loop over his shoulders and began to pull it.

Legolas could see in the human's face the pain it caused, and it saddened him.

Aragorn dragged it to his friend and set it down.

"How will you…accomplish…this?" Legolas asked.

Aragorn knew that the elf spoke of his ribs. "With a lot of painkilling herbs," he said, smiling slightly.

"Sleep for a while," Legolas said.

"Sleep?" said Aragorn. "I cannot leave you defenseless!"

Legolas inwardly winced at his words. "You will not. I am awake." He paused when his pain flared, not allowing it to show on his face. "If I sense something…I will wake you."

"I cannot expect you to stay awake, Legolas," said Aragorn.

"But stay awake I will," replied the elf. He forced his voice to sound stronger as he tried to speak longer sentences, in an effort to make the human think him well. "One of your herbs is a stimulant. I took one."

"What?" said Aragorn. He grabbed the elf's wrist and checked his pulse, finding it thankfully not racing too fast. "Why?"

"To force you to sleep," said Legolas, smiling slightly. "You have quite a task ahead of you. You need to be rested."

"That could have been dangerous!" Aragorn said.

Legolas gave no answer, and Aragorn just looked at him. He knew that the elf was right; it would be a difficult walk to Lake Town while dragging his friend, and he wouldn't have any real opportunities for sleep—especially now that he had to hide the herb-pack from Legolas.

"Do it, Estel," said Legolas. "Thanks to the herb, I will lie awake anyway."

Aragorn shook his head in defeat. He didn't want to collapse from exhaustion before they reached Lake Town and leave his friend in danger. "If anything happens—anything!—wake me. If you sense anything, wake me. If you need more painkilling herbs, wake me. If _anything_ is wrong, wake me. Understand?"

Legolas nodded. "Aye. Wake you."

Aragorn returned the nod and lay down beside his friend, closing his eyes. He was too nervous to sleep at first though, not wanting to be oblivious to the world at a time like this. He kept opening his eyes and looking at Legolas, to see that the elf was staying awake without difficulty, thanks to the herb. When sleep arrived to claim the human, he didn't even realize it.

Legolas knew the instant that his friend fell asleep. He earnestly prayed that he'd succeed in staying awake; some of what he'd told the human wasn't quite true—he'd only taken half of the stimulating leaf, knowing that Aragorn would never have agreed to sleep if the elf's heart was racing. Legolas hoped that the herb's effect would last until the human woke. _I suppose that I could take the other half when I begin feeling sleepy,_ he realized. Taking a slow breath, he let it out as equally slow, looking up at the blue, cloudless sky. It lightened his spirits, which the shadow-infected woods were trying their best to dash. He tried to ignore it, but he knew that his wound wasn't the only thing causing the chill that he felt deep within his body.

The hours passed slowly. The herb began to wear off, which Legolas realized when he suddenly started to doze off. Slowly, so as not to wake Aragorn, he pulled his arm out from within his cloak and picked up the leaf which he'd hidden from the human in his tunic. He ate it, feeling the effects within minutes. His ribs were starting to pain him more, but he wouldn't wake Aragorn, no matter what the man said.

Aragorn slept for nearly seven hours, longer than he expected. When he opened his eyes and found it to be evening, he was shocked. "Legolas?" he said, sitting up.

Legolas smiled, masking the pain that had continued to grow within his body. "Good morning."

"_Morning? _You mean _evening_," he said, reaching over to check his friend's pulse. "How do you feel? Why did you not wake me for more herbs?"

Legolas smiled at the absurd question. "You needed sleep. I am fine."

Aragorn scowled at the elf, reaching for his healing pack and giving his friend some painkilling herbs, taking some himself. He watched his friend, seeing the increased paleness in his skin. Legolas looked dazed, and the human didn't even know the half of it—the elf's pain had grown so much that he'd laid there half-conscious for the past two hours despite the stimulant, fighting against groaning and waking the human.

"You look terrible," Aragorn said, feeling his friend's forehead. Legolas' skin was still too cold.

The Mirkwood Prince had closed his eyes, exhaustion creeping up on him as the stimulant began to wear off.

"Legolas? Can you stay awake a while longer while I hunt?" Aragorn asked.

The elf sluggishly opened his eyes again.

"I will try to hurry," Aragorn told him.

Legolas nodded, and Aragorn went off into the woods, searching out more rabbits. He was lucky enough to find four, and he quickly brought them back and cooked them, watching Legolas, who dropped off to sleep the instant that Aragorn had returned. The elf didn't hear it when Aragorn put out their fire, and he didn't hear it when the human dragged the raft closer…

But he felt it when Aragorn tried to move him.

Aragorn jumped at the elf's abrupt waking, as Legolas gave a cry of pain.

The golden-haired elf's eyes snapped open and he tried to control his breathing, knowing that he would only cause himself more pain if he didn't.

"Forgive me!" said Aragorn, contrite.

The elf closed his eyes again. "I…am…all right," he lied.

Aragorn made a face.

Legolas opened his eyes, seeing the wood. "We leave?"

"If I can get you _on_ it," said Aragorn, fearing the pain that he would cause the elf. "If you roll to the left as much as you can, I can slide it under you."

Legolas nodded, and the human carefully helped him. It hurt terribly, for the pressure put on his left ribs could still be felt on his wounded right side.

Aragorn quickly slid the wood under his friend, ignoring his own pain, knowing that his friend's was worse. He helped Legolas lie flat again, leaving his hand on his arm as the pale elf tried to compose himself.

Spots of light danced behind Legolas' eyelids, his brain attempting to steal away his consciousness.

"Legolas?" said Aragorn, worriedly.

The elf re-opened his eyes.

Aragorn crawled behind his friend's head and took hold of his shoulders. "Remain limp," he said. "Do not try to help."

Legolas obeyed, keeping his body as un-tense as he could.

Aragorn shifted the elf to the middle of the three-foot-wide piece of wood. "All right?" he asked.

"Aye," Legolas replied, weakly.

Aragorn took the vines next and securely tied his friend to the wood, being sure that the vines didn't touch his ribs. When he was finished, he sat back for a minute, trying to command his own body to stop hurting. "Is anything too tight?"

Legolas shook his head.

Aragorn began to stand, but Legolas stopped him.

"Rest a while," said the elf, seeing how the exercise had affected the human. "I am not going anywhere."

Aragorn smiled slightly and reached for his pack, taking out some of the meat and handing it to his friend.

After they ate, Aragorn stood and took hold of the vine that was attached to the wood. "If you need more herbs, Legolas, please tell me," he said. "I could not bear to know that I was hurting you further. Do not hesitate to tell me if anything is wrong; please give me your word."

"All right," said Legolas. "You have my word."

With that, Aragorn wrapped the vine-loop around his shoulders—lifting the top half of the wood off the ground—and started to walk.


	5. Setback

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the fantastic reviews!

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Legolas slept through most of the journey that night, not realizing that Aragorn had given him a sleeping herb. The human doubted that the elf would've been able to sleep without it, due to the pain that being dragged would cause. The human had taken painkilling herbs himself; as large a dose as he dared, not wanting his own pain to interfere with getting Legolas out of the dangerous woods.

The hours passed faster than Aragorn thought they would, and when dawn came, he stopped, gently laying the wood down to the ground.

Legolas was still asleep, and made no movement.

Aragorn carefully sat down next to him, raising his knees and resting his arms on them, lowering his head as he tried to painfully regain his breath.

Legolas suddenly made a soft sound and Aragorn looked at him, amazed at his good timing in stopping. "Legolas?" he said, tiredly.

The elf slowly opened his eyes, looking disoriented.

Aragorn frowned, noting the dullness to his friend's eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Legolas winced, blinking for a few seconds before seeming to come to himself. He nodded, but the human suddenly saw that the Mirkwood Prince was visibly shivering.

Reaching out a hand, Aragorn felt the elf's forehead, to find his skin even colder than it had been before. It was very frightening, for such a thing was extremely abnormal not just for an elf, but for the situation, as Legolas had no internal bleeding and could not still be in shock; his elven healing ability would've healed it by now...unless the elf _was_ bleeding inside…

Scooting closer, Aragorn ignored his own pain as he moved the cloak from the elf's midsection and opened his tunic before lifting Legolas' shirt. The stitches were holding well and the bruising hadn't spread, to his immense relief. _Then what is wrong with him?_ he asked himself.

Legolas made no sound as Aragorn fixed his shirt and tunic, and re-covered him with the cloak.

"Legolas?" said Aragorn, looking at him intently. "How do you feel?"

"All right," the elf automatically answered.

Aragorn shook his head, nervously. "No, mellon-nin, I can see that you are not. You are too cold, and have grown paler. Something else ails you, and I need to know what it is! Please, tell me exactly what you feel!"

Legolas blinked again, the frightened tone of his friend's voice helping him to become more aware. He realized the seriousness of the situation when he saw that the summer sun was beating down on him while he shivered from cold. "Weak, mostly," he said, his words slow and sluggish.

"Has the pain increased?"

"No," Legolas answered, sounding relieved. He closed his eyes unexpectedly.

"Legolas?" Aragorn said, alarmed.

"Tired..." the elf whispered, not re-opening them.

A stab of fear shot through Aragorn's stomach, hurting nearly as much as his ribs. "You have slept for ten hours," he said, placing a hand on his friend's arm. "Stay awake, Legolas."

The elf opened his eyes, fear beginning to show in his eyes as he gained more lucidity. "What is…wrong…with me?" he asked, sounding very feeble.

"I am not sure," Aragorn said, checking his friend's pulse. The beat was slow and weak. "But now is not the time to hide any symptoms; is there anything that you have not told me? _Anything_ at all?"

Legolas shook his head, his eyes closing again involuntarily as he winced.

Aragorn's heart pounded as he watched his friend. Unslinging the healing pack from his shoulder, he took out some painkilling herbs and gave them to the elf, taking some himself. He looked at the stimulant herbs, wondering if he should give his friend some of those also. He opted to do it, for Legolas was literally failing before his eyes. "Take this, Legolas," he said.

The elf obeyed, chewing slowly, his eyes still closed.

Aragorn fed his friend some of the rabbit meat, before pulling the vine around his shoulders again and walking on, praying that they would make it to Lake Town quickly without encountering any dangers.

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By the time night fell, Legolas had grown even weaker.

Aragorn was terrified, for he still could not determine was what wrong with the elf. He spent the entire night walking, full of the same stimulant herbs that he kept giving to Legolas. They kept him awake so that he could keep walking, and they kept Legolas from losing consciousness, through the elf laid in an exhausted stupor.

Morning rose once more, and Aragorn was again forced to stop. His legs were aching—though he knew that they'd be hurting even worse without the painkilling herbs that he needed for his ribs—but this was day number three, and though Legolas should've been showing improvement in his condition, he was instead showing further deterioration.

Sitting on the ground beside his friend, Aragorn sighed nervously. Legolas' eyes were half-closed and his breathing was shallow. "Legolas?"

The elf made no reply, but when the human called his name again, he weakly shifted his head. "Stop," he said.

Aragorn frowned. "Stop what?"

"Stop…squeezing…me," Legolas whispered.

"Squeezing you?" Aragorn echoed. "Nothing is squeezing you! Are the vines too tight?"

Legolas gave no reply, and Aragorn reached over to see if the vines needed loosening. He was shocked at what he found; Legolas was practically being crushed by them.

Aragorn gaped, knowing that there was no possible way that he had done this to his friend. He looked at the elf, not understanding what had happened, but Legolas' eyes were shut, his face paler than ever.

Aragorn grabbed at the vines, trying to loosen them, before suddenly noticing their color. They were a deep green where they touched the elf, though they'd been gray from the Shadow when Aragorn had found them.

Looking at the vine that he dragged the wood with, he saw that it was still gray, as were all the vines that weren't touching Legolas…though he could see with his own eyes that the green seemed to be spreading. A terrible thought entered Aragorn's mind, and it shocked him to the core—

The Shadow-afflicted vines were slowly sucking the life out of Legolas.

With a cry of fury, Aragorn unsheathed his sword and quickly cut the vines, throwing them off his friend. "Legolas!" he exclaimed, tapping his friend's face. "Legolas, wake! They no longer touch you; they will harm you no further!"

But Legolas gave no reply, lying motionless.

Aragorn made a sound of dismay, dropping his face into his hands. He couldn't believe that the tool that he'd found to help save his friend had nearly killed him—and apparently still could.

Aragorn lifted his face at the realization that Legolas could still die. _What if he cannot survive with what strength he has left?_

Not wasting another second, Aragorn carefully gathered his unconscious friend into his arms and walked on, ignoring his own pain as he prayed that the elf's precarious rib would hold.

TBC  
I bet no one expected that, lol!


	6. Lake Town

Hi everyone! Thanks for your great reviews! There's only one more chapter after this one! (sniff) But don't worry, there's many more stories to come, lol :)

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As the day wore on, Legolas showed no indication of regaining consciousness. Aragorn continued to walk, and finally reached the shore of Long Lake, which housed the popular floating city.

There was a town on the shore for people who preferred living on land, and the inhabitants were shocked at the sudden sight of the exhausted human carrying a seemingly half-dead elf. Legolas was instantly recognized by some of them, and they rushed over.

Someone tried to take the elf from Aragorn's grasp, but he protested. "No! Show me where I can lay him; it was not safe to move him!"

Two of the men took his arms and led him to an Inn, where the owner quickly gave them a room and sent for the town healer.

"Inform Master Galen," Aragorn said. "He was expecting us."

The Innkeeper nodded and left the room, as the town healer hurried in.

He and Aragorn examined Legolas for quite a while, relieved to find that the elf's precarious rib was still holding on. The healer didn't know what to make of the vine story, not knowing much about elves. He secretly wondered if the exhausted and also injured Aragorn had hallucinated it.

Legolas remained unconscious, and they heaped blankets over his too-cold body. The elf's condition was serious; for Aragorn didn't know the extent of what the vines had done to him.

The healer stood near the window, watching Aragorn sitting beside the Prince. He'd refused medical aid, and wouldn't lie down himself until after the elf had woken. The healer could see how exhausted Aragorn was, and as he mixed some herbs for the elf at Aragorn's request, he sneakily put some sleeping herbs in a cup of water and sat it on the nightstand beside the bed. "Here," he said. "For when you grow thirsty."

Aragorn nodded his thanks, not suspecting a trick since the healer hadn't _demanded_ that he drink it.

The healer waited, and finally, a half-hour after they'd finished with the elf, Aragorn picked up the cup and drank the whole thing in three big swallows.

That was more than the healer could've ever hoped for, having assumed that Aragorn would take one sip and taste the herbs.

Aragorn nearly dropped the cup when he realized what the other man had done. He was horrified, afraid that Legolas would die while he lay in the next bed sleeping.

"Do not fear for your friend," said the healer. "If anything happens, I will wake you. That herb is not overly powerful."

Aragorn sighed, reluctantly nodding. There was nothing that he could do about it now. He looked at the cup and smiled slightly. "You are as bad as I," he said. "Hiding herbs in people's water."

The healer smiled before motioning for Aragorn to lie on the next bed.

Aragorn stood, feeling the herbs already doing their work—it didn't take much, for his brain was more asleep than awake anyway. He checked Legolas' pulse and felt his forehead, not finding any change in his weak heartbeat, but his skin was starting to feel a little warmer. The human was relieved at the slight improvement, and he turned to walk the few feet to the other bed.

The healer walked beside him, and reached out and grabbed the injured human when he fell asleep on his feet.

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When Aragorn woke, he found himself moving. Confused, he blinked up at the ceiling, finding that it was made out of cloth. _Where am I? _he wondered. The recent events suddenly flashed through his mind and he gasped, bolting upright. "Legolas!" he exclaimed. He found, however, that something was pinning his arms down.

It was the healer. "Be calm," he said. "The Prince lives."

Aragorn sat up carefully, finding that his ribs felt a little better and he was no longer exhausted. They were riding in a cart, and Legolas lay beside him, wrapped in blankets.

Aragorn reached out to feel his friend's forehead, finding that his body temperature had nearly risen to normal. Relief swept through him so strongly that he felt lightheaded. "Has he woken?"

The healer shook his head. "No."

Aragorn found Legolas' pulse to be stronger, and he knew now that his friend would live. "Where are we going?"

"We cross the bridge to Lake Town," said the man. "When the Master was told what had become of you both, he came to our village to bring you back with him when the Prince was stable enough."

"How long has it been?" Aragorn asked, dreading the answer.

"Two days," said the healer.

Aragorn returned his full attention to his friend, realizing how close the elf had come to death; it had taken two days for his body temperature to recover thanks to the Shadow's vine-inflicted effects. He suddenly wondered if Thranduil's message to Lake Town had survived their near-fatal ordeal.

It didn't take long to cross the bridge and arrive at their destination. When the cart halted, Aragorn reached out to lift his friend, but the healer stopped him.

"I will do it," said the man. "You carried him far enough with your ribs like that."

Before Aragorn had a chance to protest, the healer lifted the elf and carefully left the cart. He followed, wincing at the stiffness that engulfed his body. Aragorn looked up at the Master of Lake Town's home, so glad to have made it through the dangerous Shadow-infested woods without further trouble.

"Aragorn!" he heard.

Turning, he saw Master Galen approaching him from the head of the cart. "Glad to see you awake!" he said, clasping Aragorn's arm in greeting. He watched the healer carry Legolas up the stairs as they followed. "However do you two get involved in so many dangers?"

Aragorn smiled slightly. "I wish that I knew, so I could attempt to avoid it in the future."

Galen laughed at that. "Ah well, at least you are here now, and in one piece." He blinked. "Or a few pieces, anyhow!"

Aragorn couldn't help but chuckle. It nearly turned into a groan when his ribs vehemently protested the action, but he managed to hold it back as Galen grabbed passing servants and commanded that they prepare dinner early.

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The first thing that Legolas heard when he woke was a loud laugh. It startled him and his body jerked, making him gasp from the pain in his ribs.

A hand touched his arm and the laughing stopped. "Legolas?"

The elf opened his eyes to find Aragorn and Master Galen sitting in chairs by his bed. "We made it," he said.

Aragorn nodded, pouring his friend some water. "We did indeed. Galen was just telling me what happened to you the last time that you were here." He smiled as he helped Legolas drink. "Quite an amusing story!"

Galen laughed again. "Forgive me for startling you awake, young elf."

_Young elf. _Despite the fact that Legolas was close to three thousand years older than Lake Town's Master, the man always called him that. "How long has it been?"

"We spent two days at the Lake Shore Inn, and came here yesterday," Aragorn told him. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," the elf predictably lied. He tried to recall the last thing that he remembered, frowning with thought.

"Your body was weakening because those vines were sapping the strength out of you," Aragorn told him.

Legolas blinked. "What!"

Aragorn nodded, shifting a little stiffly in his chair. "Your life essence drove the Shadow from them, and they accepted it eagerly; it turned them green once more."

Legolas was stunned. He'd never heard of such an occurrence.

"Of course it would happen to _you_," said Galen, seeming to know the elf's thoughts.

"Legolas," Aragorn said, suddenly remembering what he'd wanted to ask. "Do you still have your father's message? I didn't find it in any of your clothes."

"That is all right," said Legolas, closing his eyes tiredly. "It was not written. I know what he wished to find out."

"And what is that?" asked Galen.

Legolas shook his head, reopening his eyes. "He wants to know when he'll be receiving a new batch of Dorwinion."

Aragorn's mouth nearly dropped to the floor. "Wine?" he exclaimed. "You almost died over _wine_!"

Galen shook his head, not looking surprised. "Only _you_, young elf. Only you."

TBC

LOL all this, thanks to Thranny's wine! (runs from screaming readers)


	7. Home Sweet Home

A week later, Legolas was sufficiently recovered enough to travel back to Mirkwood. His ribs were healing, as were Aragorn's, and they knew that the King had to be worried sick about them by now.

Master Galen lent them a boat, and had two of his servants bring Legolas and Aragorn home, citing the fact that neither of them should be rowing with broken ribs.

The Dorwinion wine had been ready for shipping, and the crate stood behind Legolas, who sat leaning against it.

"Do you think that we'll be able to keep what happened a secret from your father?" Aragorn asked.

Legolas shook his head without hesitation. "He will know the instant that he sees me."

Aragorn nodded. Legolas was walking very stiffly; the rib that had nearly detached from his ribcage was healing more slowly than a rib that had merely been broken. "At least we got his wine."

Legolas chuckled softly, holding it in because of his aching ribs.

When they finally arrived, they thanked the men who had done the rowing and took a cart from the port's stable. After lifting the box of wine onto the cart for them, Galen's servants left, heading back towards Lake Town.

As Aragorn and Legolas climbed aboard the cart and started riding towards the palace, the human suddenly snorted.

"That will do it," he said.

Legolas looked at him, askance.

The human laughed as they rode down the road. "Neither one of us can lift the crate. That will be proof enough that something happened to us!"

Legolas eyes widened, and he smiled. "Very true. We shall simply have to accept the fact that we'll need to tell him."

"We can lie."

Legolas looked at his friend again, eyebrows raised.

Aragorn smiled. "I mean, we can leave out the part about the vines."

Legolas nodded. "Definitely." He felt bad enough that his father would blame himself for his son's injury; Thranduil did not need to know how close Legolas had come to death.

After they pulled up at the palace, Aragorn carefully climbed down and reached up to assist his friend so that his still-weak rib would not be jostled.

"Legolas!" they suddenly heard.

Both elf and human froze.

Legolas was still standing in the cart with his hands on the wood at either side, having just lowered himself to reach the step.

Aragorn had his hands on Legolas' forearms, and the sight made it quite obvious to the approaching King that something was wrong with his son.

"Legolas!" Thranduil called again, as he jogged over. "What happened? Why were you both gone for so long?"

Aragorn had let go of the elf and Legolas had quickly straightened up, but he did it much too fast and the pain increased enough to make him gasp, though it came out muffled as he bit his lip.

Aragorn heard it, and apparently so did the King, who increased his pace and grabbed his son's arm as he looked up at him. "Where are you hurt?" he demanded.

"He is all right," Aragorn tried to assure the King. "He merely has some broken ribs."

"As does Aragorn," said Legolas, trying to lose some of the focus.

Thranduil looked from one to the other. "You both have broken ribs, and yet the human was helping the _elf_! What else, Legolas? How did this happen? Come down from there."

Legolas sighed as his father and friend both helped him down, the King putting an arm around his son as if to support him.

"I am truly all right, father, your worry is unneeded," Legolas said, as they began walking towards the palace.

Aragorn suddenly stopped. "The wine!"

Thranduil turned, to see the crate sitting on the cart. "I will send someone to fetch it. Now, tell me what has occurred!"

Sighing, the two friends complied. They told him of the storm and boat wreck, and how their injuries had been sustained by the waterspout's impact.

Thranduil listened, horrified.

Legolas started to turn down a corridor, but Thranduil tightened the hold on his son and continued walking straight—towards the healing rooms.

"Ada," said Legolas, nervously. "Where are we going?"

"I want you both to be looked at," said the King.

Legolas swallowed, not wanting his father to see the wound caused by the piece of wood. "There is no need, I am nearly healed."

"Then why did you need help getting down from the cart?" the King asked. "There is something that you are not telling me, Legolas, I am no fool."

Aragorn gave his friend a wry look.

Legolas returned it, as they reached the door.

When the healers saw their King, Prince, and his friend enter; they immediately surrounded Legolas, to Aragorn's amusement and Legolas' embarrassment. After being told by Thranduil to check Legolas' ribs, they herded him to a bed and sat him down, starting to remove his tunic.

"Stop!" Legolas exclaimed, having been fed up with these healers for millennia. "I can do it myself!"

The healers obeyed their prince, who started undoing the clasps.

Aragorn chuckled as he and Thranduil walked to the bed.

"Do not laugh," Aragorn suddenly heard. "_You_ are next."

Aragorn's smile instantly vanished, and he turned to find Elrond standing behind him. "Ada!" he exclaimed, shocked, wondering when the Lord of Rivendell had obviously traveled to Mirkwood.

Legolas was likewise surprised at the unexpected sight.

Thranduil stepped forward and helped his son remove his tunic and shirt, who didn't dare protest. "You can go," he told the two healers. "Elrond can take care of my son."

The healers hesitated slightly, concerned for the Prince that they'd healed so many times through the millennia, but nodded, seeing that he seemed to be all right.

When the bandage around Legolas' midsection was uncovered, Elrond stepped forward and began to remove it.

Aragorn looked at Legolas and the elf met his gaze as they tried to figure out what exactly to tell the King.

Thranduil saw the silent exchange and it made him nervous—he was almost afraid to see what lay under the bandage.

Elrond finished unwrapping it, to find a smaller one underneath. Discolored skin could be seen sticking out above it, and Thranduil himself reached over to remove it. What he saw when it was unwrapped made his eyes widen; there was a long, stitched gash that was surrounded by fading bruises. At first, Thranduil thought it meant that Aragorn had needed to cut his son to pull a rib out of his lung, but the gash was uneven and crooked. "What caused this!" he exclaimed. "The _truth_!"

Legolas sighed, raggedly. "Forgive me, ada. I did not wish you to know."

"Obviously!" the King exclaimed.

"A…piece of wood from the boat did it," Legolas told him.

Thranduil stared at the wound, horrified, as he realized what his son was telling him.

"It did not puncture his lung," said Aragorn, trying to lessen the impact on Thranduil's nerves.

Elrond reached forward and started to gently press on Legolas' ribs.

"How bad?" Thranduil asked him, almost unable to talk around the catch in his throat.

Legolas made a soft pained sound, flinching at the touch.

"One is worse than the other," Elrond answered. "It is not very stable."

Thranduil looked at Aragorn, knowing that the young healer had cared for his son's injury.

"It did not merely break where the wood struck it," the human explained. "It also broke where it attaches to his ribcage."

Elrond looked at him, shocked. "And yet, it still remains within him?"

Aragorn nodded. "It did not fully detach."

Elrond sighed with relief. "You are incredibly fortunate, penneth."

Legolas nodded, knowing how true his words were.

After studying the wound more closely and pronouncing him on the mend, Elrond gently wrapped a clean bandage around Legolas' ribs again and gave him some painkilling herbs, telling him to lie down.

Legolas made to stand instead, but at a look from his father, he obeyed.

Elrond checked Aragorn's ribs next, relieved to find no horrible wound like Legolas'. He made the human lie down also, and the two fathers stared down at their children.

"I know that the storm cannot have been anticipated," said Thranduil. "But whatever shall we do with you two?"

Legolas and Aragorn looked at each other, grinning. "Share your wine?" they said.

THE END

LOL! I had no idea that the story would end that way until I got there:)

And now, a preview for my next story!

_A painful jerk suddenly woke Legolas, who gave a gasp and opened his eyes. He felt extremely groggy, and it took a minute or two for him to realize that he was cramped in a very small area, and that he was somehow in motion._

_Alarm filled him and he tried to move, before realizing that it was completely impossible. Fear from the disorienting situation increased his heartbeat, and he looked around frantically, trying to make sense of it. "Aragorn!" he yelled. He got no answer, and tried to shift his body again, now becoming aware of the painful headache that gripped his skull. He groaned, halting his movements and closing his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself before reopening his eyes and studying his surroundings again. His mind was completely unable to comprehend what he saw..._

A short preview, I know, but I couldn't put any more without giving the situation away, lol! I don't have a title for that one yet, but it will be posted after my next snippet! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to tell me what you thought of 'Eye of the Storm's' ending, lol :)


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